


Gemini

by Seruitutem



Series: The Zodiac Project [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 00:58:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12783468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seruitutem/pseuds/Seruitutem
Summary: Part of a special faction of the U.S. military, he was chosen to enter Vault 111 for his skills and strength. Thawing him out was a mistake.





	Gemini

**Author's Note:**

> One part of a series of 13.

_Gemini._

Obviously not his real name, but it's what he was called. Gemini, the short guy with a bandana always tied around the lower half of his face, and black warpaint smeared over his eyes. Oh, what eyes those were. Ol' Nick immediately recognized them as synthetic. Replacements due to war injuries, Gemini had said, and nothing more. He'd been a soldier before the bombs fell, part of a special faction of twelve, reduced to one.

Those eyes were what caught his attention, trained on Finn, then on himself, and it startled him a little. He was a veteran when it came to being unseen, sticking to the shadows, or just appearing from nowhere. Finn hadn't even heard him coming, but Gemini's stare immediately snapped his way the moment he stepped past the weapon shop. The pupils dilated and contracted, like those on a Mr Handy, eerie and intriguing. Imagine zooming in and out, like camera lens, no details missed, that's how he managed. That's how he never wasted a bullet.

Going against that loser of an overboss in Nuka World, despite being instructed to use a fucking water gun to win, it only took one bullet. Square between the eyes, Colter should have worn his helmet, but cockiness sure was a bitch. It earned him a one way ticket into oblivion, and Gemini a straight shot to the position of power above the whole park. Gage hadn't been entirely confident at the start, especially with a ghoul tagging along, but Gemini shut him up real quick with a few quiet words.

 _'I'll make them fear me.'_ And he did.

Nischa's gang had been the first to annoy him, tossing passive-aggressive comments his way about the progress of retaking the park, even sneering at his ghoulish companion. Gemini had made an example of the last bastard to do it. They'd said something unkind, something along the lines of 'letting that freak have more time at the reigns', implying Gemini was allowing Hancock more leadership than what they felt was deserved. 'Keep your pet on a tighter leash', they'd finished with. Gemini responded with the butt of his rifle crushing their nose into their skull.

"If I hear anyone talk like that about him again, I won't be happy. When I'm unhappy, no one's happy." They began to believe him.

The Operators were easier to deal with, looking for an influx of cash flow, and that was where Hancock stepped in. With all the charisma and charm that came with his mayoral duties, he hadn't even batted an eye when faced with the cold indifference of that faction of raiders.

"You got traders, you need stock to unload. You want caps? I got boys back in Goodneighbor lookin' to make a deal." With, of course, a cut for good ol' Goodneighbor. Robbing caravans was something that left a sour taste in the mayor's mouth, and backed with Gemini's influence, the Operators had begun their new role of drug trafficking. Only slightly more honest than flat out robbery, but easier on the conscience.

The Pack, well, The Pack was different. Personally, Hancock would have been fine leaving them to their own devices, forcing their pets to battle to the death, cheering on their caged gorillas into a frenzy, and tossing their weight around each other. Too much raw, untamed energy, only one smooth set of skin away from his feral cousins.

He took silent pleasure in the way Gemini displayed dominance over their leader with one sentence, watching Mason back down and mutter 'not in front of my guys', _priceless._ Mason was tall, uncomfortably so, and his arms were thicker than his own thigh. Being the only ghoul among so many bloodthirsty humans, he was one muscle spasm away from eating a bullet from these fucks. But Gemini? Five-foot-seven Gemini, with his slim muscle and soldier-boy posture, with his soft-spoken tone, with Gemini, he was protected.

Good Ol' Gemini had actually removed the dusty red bandana from over his mouth an nose, revealed the Glasgow Smile those Reds had given him in the war, and he hadn't needed to raise his voice to ensure Mason heard him. Thick scars that nearly extended his smile to his ears, thinner scrapes over his chin and the bridge of his nose, and considerable chunks taken from over his left eye, most raiders couldn't say they've got similar battle scars.

Not to mention, those synthetic eyes. Nischa had ignored them, respectfully, Mags had silenced Will before he could even ask about them. Mason stared at them with the rude defiance that came with an overload of testosterone and cockiness.

"What, you got fancy fake eyes, you think you're hot shit?" Hancock gave him credit for keeping his tone lax and unwavering. Gemini's stare always unnerved him. "This overboss shit, I'm not convinced. Tough talk won't get you anywhere if you can't back it." Mason leaned forward in that god-awful, ugly throne of his, "Anyone can beat a bitch with a gun. That's not gonna earn you my respect. It's a two-way street, boss."

Gemini's expression remained neutral, frighteningly so, unfazed by the perpetual energy around him, and in front of him. "A two-way street. Not a single one of you have come close to earning my respect, why do you feel entitled to it? Complaints, threats, petty insults towards my partner," he stepped forward, trapping Mason in his own throne. He leaned down, both hands resting on the armrests, colorless eyes boring into the man's skull. "You're all acting like petulant children who didn't get their way, and how do we remedy that type of attitude?"

"We punish 'em," Hancock finished from behind, arms crossed over his chest.

To his credit, Mason kept the stare, but his hands clenched in his lap, and his thighs tensed. Hancock tensed as well, his knife was in his boot, he could land it right between those meaty thighs before he could put a hand on Gemini. Not that Gemini needed the help, he was thin, yes, but resilient. Mason could land a blow, if he was fast enough, but Gemini would break his arm just the same. Intense military training would ensure it. Gemini was hard muscle beneath his clothing, a walking, breathing weapon.

He was only one of twelve, from the fabled _Zodiac Project_ , twelve soldiers that had undergone the type of training that only a Navy Seal could hold a candle to. Small as he was, Gemini knew all the tricks to stay at the top. It was enough to scare Hancock at times, he didn't need Psycho, and he silently prayed he never dosed up with it. Breaking a super mutant's neck with just his _thighs_ , definitely scary enough.

"I'm doing all the heavy lifting for you people, reclaiming this stupid fucking park for you, while you all sit on your asses, only lifting a finger after the danger is gone, you know what that looks like to me? To your _boss_?" Gemini still spoke softly, his tone akin to one you'd take when speaking to a child. "It looks like you don't deserve shit, much less my fucking respect." Mason opened his mouth to retort, but Gemini cut him off with a snap of the fingers, right in front of his nose. "Don't argue with me. You know I'm right, you, all of you, the Operators, the Disciples, and the Pack, you're all selfish little children, complaining to Daddy that you didn't get that toy you never earned. You're lucky I'm even doing this for you. I could have left you in the hands of Colter. Respect is, indeed, a two-way street, and you're still stuck in park. _Get a move on_."

He finally retreated, producing a battered pack of Grey Tortoise from his inner jacket pocket. "You keep that in mind, _boy._ " The smug smirk on Hancock's face only widened, and his pitch glance met with Mason's. He offered a tip of the hat before turning his back, almost _waltzing_ out after Gemini.

-

Retaking the part as a whole wasn't easy, but it was done. Gemini succeeded where Colter chose to fail, and still, the three divisions refused him the deserved respect, what a pity. What a pity, indeed. Only Gage seemed generous enough, bless his little heart. That's what made it that much easier to take an automatic, and gun down the park.

They started with Nischa, and Hancock took no effort in blowing the brains out of Daisy's blonde little head, ending her high-pitched, nasally, exaggerated Texan accent. Two clips of ammo to end the Disciples, and just for Nischa, a combat knife under the chin. The Disciples, after all, boasted endlessly about their love for blades. It only seemed fitting to take down their leader with one.

She had put up a fight, added a few new fresh cuts to Gemini's perfect cheekbones, tore his bandana, nearly implanted her own blade between his ribs. Hancock delivered a swift kick to her thigh for that, and she 'fell' onto Gemini's knife. Not a fatal wound, not at first, not until Gemini ripped the blade downwards, stopping at her collarbone. His blue hair almost looked purple when he walked out of the lair. _Peace and quiet_ , he thought, for the first time since walking into the fucking park. No more snapping his way about the 'unfair' division of the park- as if the Disciples deserved more. 

The Pack was next He let Hancock have the reigns for that one. The flamer he stole from the Disciples lair was his ride of choice. Gemini only trailed behind him, replacing fuel when needed, and sniping off stray raiders before they could get a shot off at his mayor.

"Burn motherfucker, burn!" Hancock cackled. Never again would they glare at him in disgust, never again would they mutter to each other about his skin, they'd all die looking just like him. Flesh melting, peeling off in layers, thinning to the bone here and there- just like his own. For once, equals, before he took his position above, again. No smooth-skin was above him, he'd cut them down, and leave them in the dirt where they belonged.

Mason was saved for last, Gemini having broken a kneecap to prevent a rampage, or an escape. Anyone could beat a bitch with a gun, but it took precision, strength, to shatter a kneecap in one swing, all while the target was in a sprint. It reduced the massive man into a writhing, spitting animal on the ground. In between pained growling and guttural mumblings, he spared a few choice words for the pair. His kingdom was crumbed, his followers dead and smoking, his dominance quelled by a small Asian, and a bony ghoul. Oh, how that must have stung.

"You- you're gonna pay for this," he spat as Hancock approached. The ghoul tossed aside the now empty flamer, it's clanking echoing through the now quiet- save for Mason's distress- lair. "We're gonna fuck you up!" Drool ran down Mason's chin, sprayed from his lips, eyes wide and wild, he looked all the part a rabid animal. "You ain't leavin' this park alive, or in one piece!"

The sole of Hancock's boot met his face, and he reviled in the satisfying crush of cartilage crumbling. "Shut the fuck up," he rasped, "You fuckin' raiders, you never got nothin' original to say, do ya?" He accepted the .44 Gemini offered, cocked it, aimed it.

Lastly, the Operators. Hancock wielded a shotgun, Gemini had the .44. Aim for the head, he'd instructed. The Operators had annoyed him the least, he felt they deserved instantaneous death, at the very least. Mags and Billy-boy thought they were prepared. They died first, before either could fire off a round. One shell to the head for William, and a slug between the eyes for Mags. Mags, Gemini could stand, a no-funny-business type woman, got to the point and didn't believe in fucking around. William, however, had too smart a mouth at times. Now, his smart mouth had been reduced to a mass of shredded flesh and shattered bone. Mags' brilliantly devious brains decorated the floor. One by one, their followers... _followed._

All three factions down, and only one raider remained. Dear old Gage.

He was waiting at the doors to Fizztop. He had his gun in hand. He waited until both were in plain view. Gemini was quite a sight, sticky, blood-clotted hair, crimson splashes and splatters on his face. The blood was hard to detect on his black Brotherhood suit- stolen, of course, off the unfortunate Knight who'd met a particularly nasty squad of ferals.

Gage kept his one good eye on Gemini, his finger on the trigger. His weathered voice sounded tired when he spoke, "So, this is how it ends."

Gemini stopped when Gage began to speak, Hancock a safe distance behind, with his own gun at the ready. Just in case. "Yes," Gemini said, bottom lip gummy with congealed blood. "I think you expected this, trusting a stranger. Colter wasn't too bad a leader in comparison, but hindsight is a real bitch." His hand hovered over the gun strapped to his thigh. "Greedy children get punished."

Gage snorted and lifted his weapon. He was dead before he could brace it against his shoulder.

-

Nuka World was the new, biggest trading hub of the Commonwealth, Diamond City, eat your motherfucking heart out.

The enslaved traders freed, their appreciation came in the form of a steady flow of caps. Some Goodneighbor boys set up shop, as promised, some trafficking chems, some manning a lovely little speakeasy. Of course, the pair sat atop the park, in Fizztop, overseeing it's growth.

"Y'know, if you hadn't told me you had a plan when you started runnin' this place, I'd have buried a boot up your ass," Hancock said one evening, lounging in a lawn chair on the terrace. A still smoking inhaler of Jet still in his hand, and a chilled bottle of ale in the other, his dark eyes spanned over the kingdom, he one of its new rulers. "Takin' up with raiders? Shit, you had me thinking you'd taken one too many hits to the head."

Gemini stood behind him, both hands resting on his shoulders. "No. Just playing the game, and they were easy pawns." He gave a fond squeeze, the muscle beneath his palms lax and loose. "In war, you can't afford to become the pawn. You have to learn to play in the big leagues, or end up just another casualty."

"You fooled the shit out of me for a while there. Wasn't until I overheard you talking to that trader that I caught on. Didn't wanna tell you favorite little hot mess, hm?"

"Not at first. Admittedly, you were more convincing when you were in the dark, when it mattered the most. Gaining even a little trust around here was hard enough, and sometimes, your poker face is easy to read."

"Hah! Finn was right, I'm gettin' soft, but hey. Seeing those people wearing fuckin' shock collars, left a bad taste in my mouth no amount of Jet could cover up." Speaking of, there was still one hit left, and he handed it up to Gemini, who took it.

"With us being here, they'll never have to wear 'em again."

"Just a regular pair of guardian angels, huh?"

"If we don't look out for the people of the Commonwealth, no one will." The familiar faint click-whoosh interrupted speech for a moment, followed by a slow exhale.

"And that, my fine friend, is exactly why throwin' in with you was the best choice I've made in a long time."

"You fuckin' sap."

Hancock cackled, "Yeah, well, you love me." His free hand reached up, fingertips brushing over gloved knuckles. "Sappy bullshit and all."

"Don't forget the shitty puns."

 

 


End file.
